


Moving On

by poetssoul



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cocaine, Denial, Hinted Sabriel, Hook Up, M/M, Seeking Help, consoling!Sam, drug user!Gadreel, matchmaker!Dean, mourning!Sam, pushing away, shooting up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetssoul/pseuds/poetssoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After a month of typing this bad boy up, and also considering whether or not to give up on it, I finally finished and even if it isn't that great I am still pretty proud of how it turned out, so thank you for reading it!</p></blockquote>





	Moving On

The heart ached for what it yearned always especially when it still was in the grieving process. So much time had passed between the learned fact that Gabriel had been killed, but that did not stop Sam Winchester’s heart from the continuation of mourning the archangel of whom he had been smitten despite the encounters had that turned out to be more trouble than they were actually worth, and it did not help that his older brother was involved with another angel related to his deceased love interest. Often he was able to keep the jealousy hidden that the one in the trench coat had been brought back on occasion, for even though it was considered not to be fair how could he be blamed? 

Today was different altogether in a way that could not be described by the younger sibling as he emerged from the dimly lit room dwelled in with a sense of dread anticipated in the depths of his very being. Making his way into the kitchen to be overwhelmed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted throughout the room, he noticed how the other two sat closer together than was normalized by their display of the elongated relationship; noticed as a disturbance in a ritualized pattern, yet it was ignored in order to obtain the brew relied on. Fingers wrapped around the handle of the pot, it was tipped in order to allow the blackened liquid to flow into the mug picked up from the drying rack until the brim barely was brushed against, replaced for a spoon dipped into a lidded container of sugar and added into the drink, swirled until the color changed to beige. 

Turning around with the cup caressed between both hands, he was startled by the fact that they were watching his every movement as if the awaited for an opened moment to be confronted, “Can I help you guys?”

“Sit down Sammy, we need to talk.” 

Uh oh, Sam thought as he did as was suggested by his sibling, a hand poised on the back of an emptied chair pulled in order to be seated comfortably in it. Those four little words hardly ever brought forth any good news, but he could not call to mind anything done wrong. “It’s been called to our attention several times before this, but it needs to be addressed once and for all,” Castiel started off the conversation, “You seem to still be hung up over my older brother.”

Dismayed over the obvious, a sigh was let out at the mention of the subject brought up. The only question he had was why they wanted so badly to discuss this ordeal that induced nightmares and caused tears to well up at the smallest of incidents, “Cas…”

“We aren’t going to rattle off reasons of why we think this behavior should be stopped, but we do have a proposition to be considered.” 

“Well, spit it out then.”

“I think it would be better if this part were discussed in a more suited environment.” Dean finally spoke.

“We’re in the safest place known to us, and you want to scold me in public over still being in love with a dead man?”

“Not exactly,” the older Winchester said, “It involves you being bathed and well-dressed though.”

There was something unspoken only known to the paired men that sent suspicion into an already filled mind with thoughts that were never quieted for long, if ever. Then, it dawned on him what was expected of the planned outing; they wanted to set him up on a date. The realization provoked an onset of watered waves to hit the shored brink of the bulbs of sight now hidden from view as his gaze was lowered to the undisturbed coffee, a stray tear rolled down from the edge of his nose into the substance causing a ripple to be developed. "You couldn’t leave well enough alone, huh?”

“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t care about your wellbeing?”

“A normal one, for starters.” 

“Anyway, I understand if you aren’t ready for this, but it would do you some good.” 

Deliberated consideration was contemplated as the offer was weighed for both decisions that could be made. It had been only a few years since they had been notified of the death that helped to defeat Michael and Lucifer, the heart still aching from the swollen sorrow, yet it seemed like the only logical thing to do, “When do we leave?”

“In a few hours.”

“At least I have enough time to freshen up.” he gave as an answer, pushing away from the kitchen table and stalking away towards his room to gather a fresh pair of clothes to replace the wrinkled ones worn before discouragement could settle in.

* * *

There was a deep-seeded guilt that bloomed from the moment Sam set foot over the threshold of the 24-hour opened bar picked out by his brother, head bowed ever so slightly while he followed to an emptied table on the far side of the room where it was less crowded.  
A strange presence felt, he caught sight of another who stared calmly in his direction as the unknown person’s dark blue eyes swept downward and came back up in subtle gestures over his positioned body, a stare held once their gazed connected for just an instant before it was broken by the sound of a cleared throat.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.” Dean scolded playfully.

With no effort made to have it hidden away, a blush crept slowly onto his cheeks over the fact that his peaked interest was easy to see, “Do you think he noticed?”

“He seemed interested enough.” 

Embarrassed, elbows were placed firmly onto the surface of the glass of the furniture as both hands came together to encompass his face for a brief moment, startled back into reality when he lifted up from the shield of raised appendages by the fact that the unidentified male stood a few feet from him.

“Well, I’m going to go order while you two kids get to know each other.” Dean ushered for an excused dismissal. 

“Please, sit.” the younger Winchester suggested, trying to ignore the stirred feelings that now were called forth in order to address this newly made scenario. Watching every move executed, he scanned over every physical detail while the one who had joined settled in the once occupied chair. 

“I apologize if I’m intruding.” his honeyed voice flowed smoothly out only to pierce into the heart of whom he faced.

“Trust me, you’re not.”

“I’m Gadreel, by the way.” 

“Sam.” he gave back, trusting himself with that one word alone as he accepted the outstretched hand offered, only to be unable to let go of it for some time as the softness of the hardened hand was gauged. 

“I admire your enthusiasm, but you can release your grip.” 

Immediately at the mentioned interaction fingers were uncurled and returned to where they laid on the tabletop, “Would you care to join us?”

“I would love to, but I should be getting home.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow if you would like to talk more though.” Gadreel reassured as he stood once more.

“How will I be able to know when you are?” 

“You could look at the napkin in front of you,” an absentminded palm ruffled the shortened black hair at the nape of his neck as a nervous laugh erupted quietly, “I took the opportunity to write it down for you before coming over here and placed it there while you were busy glancing at me.” With a curt nod and a softened half smile he left the bar, the memory of the gesture permanently put into the vault of his mind.

“Looks like someone’s infatuated.” 

Startled slightly, he looked up to see his brother reclaim the seat left for the stranger clad in all black as he set down an opened long-necked bottle of alcohol after it was drank from, “I thought you said you were going to order for the both of us?”

“Someone has to drive.”

* * *

A few days later, Sam found himself behind the wheel of that vehicle once again, this time alone instead of accompanied by his sibling in order to arrive on time at the location decided on for the first date; Gadreel’s home. As the vehicle parked in the vacant driveway, a deep breath was inhaled to calm down the nerves that were built before the safety was left for the porch of the quaint house, a knock on the door sounded from the knuckles rapped against the wooden door. 

The newly acquired confidence disappeared as soon as the entrance opened to reveal the man he had came to see dressed dapperly in a suit whereas the Winchester only wore the usually adorned plaid and jeans combination, replaced by embarrassment at the lack of proper preparation for the evening. 

“Welcome, Sam,” Gadreel said while eyes scanned in stoic silence, “You look handsome.”

“Compared to you, I look like a homeless person.” 

“Nonsense,” he argued, “As long as you’re comfortable then that’s all that matters.” the door widened as the male stepped backward in order to allow the guest the ability to enter. Looking around, the simplicity of the inside, it became more like the surroundings used to with a few furnishings placed in the living room adorned with a bookshelf stuffed full with readings of different genres, a fireplace lit on the adjacent wall. 

“Make yourself at home.”

Doing as instructed, he sat down onto the leather cushions of the couch, careful not to disturb the table decorated with two empty wine glasses that reflected the light of the centered candle that flickered lazily as his long legs were brought closer to his body, joined a few moments later by the other that carried two filled plates in his hands and a bottle of red wine under his armpit.

“Dinner is served.” he announced as the dishes were sat onto the emptied space still left on the surface, the alcohol now occupying his hands as he uncorked it and filled the stemmed bowls evenly to the brim. 

“Very classy,” Sam remarked, middle and ring finger split around the bottom of the glass as it was cupped into the palm of his hand while it met his lips; drank in slowly. Set down back into it’s place, it was replaced for the fork and knife that accompanied the dish of tenderized meat and steamed vegetables, a piece of the cooked animal sliced into and chewed once it entered his mouth, “Compliment to the chef.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it, as I was worried it wouldn’t suit your fancy.”

“Please, the food I usually eat could never compete.”

While they got to know each other, Sam found it hard to pay attention for long. He had found out that the reason he remained at the bar so often was that he had once owned it, and when he sold it off to a friend he had been allowed to come as often as liked which proved to be more than initially offered since he had been fired from a job months earlier. The real reason to being let go was ignored in exchange for a stolen glimpse of the jagged jaw line while it moved. A suppressed reaction was able to be kept at bay until a flicker of tongue breached upon the slightly parted lips. Unable to remain hidden any longer, the opportunity was taken as emptied hands cupped both cheeks in order to be steadied while one mouth matched with another, relieved at the fact that no rejection was issued. Daring not to have the moment pushed past the limited bounds, a thumb slid under the cuff of a sleeve while kisses were still exchanged, the act only ever stopped once the padded finger felt the scarred skin around the underside of the other’s bony wrist.

“Is there something wrong?” 

“No, I just have to go use the bathroom.” he improvised, not yet ready to have the male confronted over what had caused the abrasions especially with a lack of proof. Excusing himself, he left the security of the sofa in place for the shield of the locked door his back now pressed against as it was attempted to adjust to the fact found with eyes closed, as it should have been made obvious at how he had ignored the meal made, reddened eyes locked on the guest he hosted instead. Once they were opened, his gaze rested on the wastebasket tucked in the corner nearly completely covered by the shower curtain as the plunger of a needle was brought to attention only to escalate the assumption gained earlier.

Calmly, the threshold was crossed as the hunter returned to the cushioned piece of furniture only to be met with nonchalance that seemed to pertain to the alibi almost able to fool, “Shall we continue?” 

“Well, there was something I wanted to address first.”

“Go ahead.”

The eased words offered already trapped, so there was no point in being stopped from what needed to be addressed despite how this might spiral out of control, “Do you use drugs?”

“If you count wine, yes.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” the conversation was directed, braced for what would be expected to come from anyone in such a situation.

“You don’t know what I’ve been through…”

“True, but I do know how it feels to be dependent on something that controls you,” Sam told him, patiently waiting while the information was considered as the help it was meant to be, “You don’t have to do this alone, Gad.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“If your mind happens to be changed all you have to do is call.” With that, the Winchester dismissed himself from the house, a heart weighed down by the heavy anchor of guilt felt at the fact of being unable to have the male fancied convinced in help being sought, yet blame could not be placed since the similar scenario stuck out so vibrantly from when the lust for demon blood took over. 

* * * 

Contact with the other residents of the bunker had been immediately avoided as the protection of a closed door was opted for instead. A connection had finally been found after the years spent in denial, yet he was right back to square one in a different way; he mourned for what could have been if the dots had not of been connected, and just like that it was over before it had really began. An hour of lying in the darkened depths, and a knock at the door sounded against the wood it was made out of, as hollow as the hole where a heart once was located.

“Go away.”

“Sam, please let me in.” Gadreel’s voice pleaded after another attempt at having the knob of the entrance jarred failed. Pushed up from the haphazardly covered mattress, he stood in a blinded blank stupor prior to it was unlocked and opened wide enough to allow him through.

“Why are you here?”

“I do want to seek treatment,” he started off, “I just could not find enough will to want it until you brought it up.”

“It’ll be a battle, but if you’re serious about this then we’ll help you get through this.” 

“I’m ready for it.”

Nodding, Sam drew him in close, for despite the quarrel experienced so short of a time ago there was no strength left to have the longing of contact denied even as the leaned figure trembled harshly behind the wetted eyes that could not be dried. Once again, someone relied on him to be returned to reality’s secured structure in a guided process purged from evils seeded as a consequence to damage dealt, and it felt right being able to offer a helping hand to a person bound already by some force that had failed at first, and still the leap of faith was taken as a way of finally moving on.

**Author's Note:**

> After a month of typing this bad boy up, and also considering whether or not to give up on it, I finally finished and even if it isn't that great I am still pretty proud of how it turned out, so thank you for reading it!


End file.
